


Truce-Days

by Rae_Saxon



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Also I've never seen Frozen, Angst, Because the Master has issues, F/F, F/M, So I'm sorry for any misinformation on my part, fluff?, mention of suicide, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:34:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25171696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rae_Saxon/pseuds/Rae_Saxon
Summary: The Lumiat, an incarnation of the Master, stripped from all his evil tendencies, meets the Doctor, ready to run off into the universe with her. The Master, evil tendencies perfectly in tact, feels a bit left behind.
Relationships: The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 59





	Truce-Days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VaultOfMelkurMistress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VaultOfMelkurMistress/gifts).



> SO, I listened to the first two stories of the Missy boxset. And was intrigued. Naturally, I had to write something about this. I'm still, officially, on a writing break though and only wrote this to trick my best friend into writing again, so....... it's not edited. Which to 20% means typos and to 80% means that the Master's bitching isn't cursive enough.

He couldn't stand her.

He could barely bear her. His constant reminder of his own, absolute failure, an attempt so embarrassing it drove heat into his face and hearts, let it pulse through his veins until it turned into solidified rage.

“I already met our past self. Bit stubborn, is she? Are you more reasonable? I genuinely don't remember.”

The Master stared. He remembered, of course. He remembered their first encounter, the way she had danced around him, had sung about how much better she was than him, in every way. In the quite literal sense, too.

Like he had cared, back then. About goodness.

He tried to shiver, like he had back then, at the mere thought of the word, but it ended up a tired shrug.

Of course he had cared. He had listened to her, some part of him, had allowed her to lead him to the Doctor, to try... and fail in absolute every attempt to restore their friendship.

And here she stood. A wide grin on her face, as if she hadn't been his own undoing.

“Reasonable is not a word any of us have ever been described with. You should know that,” he growled and she giggled, of course she did, in that annoying way of hers.

“There must be a bit of a reasonable streak in there. It's inside me, after all.”

The Master's eyes narrowed.

His good parts, without the evil ones. His... his... kindness, without his cruelty. His own personal Valeyard, only she called herself “The Lumiat”.

Stupid name.

“So reasonable, in fact, that I'm considering to throw you out into deep space right this moment.”

“She seemed to think I was the Doctor. Missy. Got a little flirty, actually.”

The Lumiat seemed to have decided to ignore his threats. How very brave of her.

Just as stupid as her name, then.

The Master walked around the console, towards the lever that opened his doors.

“Flirty is hardly the correct word.”

“It's exactly the right word. Isn't that's what it called when you walk up all close to a person and start breathing their name into their face with an intense stare, and just... make witty remarks about their gender?”

The Master stiffened.

“No, it's called threatening. It's playing with your food.”

“Except you haven't eaten in quite a long time, haven't you?” Again, that absolute repulsing little giggle, as she spun around herself, standing next to him at the console.

“Oh, I remember this TARDIS. It looked comfier when it was hers, though. She had pretty leaves around the balustrade. Yours is a little crammed, isn't it?”

“I could open the door and have you catapulted out within seconds, surely you know?”

She grinned at that.

“I'm you. You'd never have existed without me. It's suicide. A messy one, at that. The paradox kind.”

The Master raised an eyebrow.

“You have no idea how little I care about whether I exist or not, do you?”

The Lumiat frowned.

“I was created out of your need to survive. She clung to life so hard...-”

“Yes, thank you,” the Master brought out through gritted teeth. “I was there, I don't need a recap.”

She crooked her head, staring at him in childlike wonder.

“She's looking for the Doctor, but I think you might need her far more.”

“I don't need anyone,” the Master lied swiftly, the hand on the lever now trembling visibly. “Especially not her.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” the Lumiat replied in an infuriating sing-sang voice. “You need her like moths need a flame. Like clowns need the laughter. Like an artist his audience.”

“Well, I'm not performing right now, so kindly disappear.”

She stepped closer to him, using the little gap between him and the console to slip between it, smiling up at him gently.

Urgh.

Compassion. On a face, that somehow, allegedly, incomprehensibly, had once been his own.

“But you're always performing. To yourself, to the universe, to her... Aren't you tired?”

“Tired? Incredibly so. Mostly of you.”

She rolled her eyes and grinned up at him, in that annoying, knowing way that a friend did to another when they were teasing each other. In that way he hadn't been looked at for a long, long time.

“Leave,” he snarled. “I don't want you here. I know who you are, what you are, how you were created and I know what you're going to do to me. You think you're good? You're wrong. Whatever you are, you're not that. Because there's nothing good inside me. Nothing to sustain you. Leave.”

She walked away from him with a shake of her head, her fingers running over his controls as she did, roaming over every button she could reach without stretching.

He watched her warily, tried to fix the controls in her wake, but when she finally reached the door, the ship had already moved. Almost as if it wanted to more than it wanted to be stopped, the traitorous little beast.

He checked the coordinates with a swift glance, resignation settling over him as he understood.

“I don't want to see her, what don't you understand about this?”

The Lumiat shrugged.

“But I do. And why shouldn't I? You say I've done something horrendous to you, but I can fix it, can't I? I can... I can make us happy. Give us the one thing we have always wanted. Just for a little while.”

The Master frowned.

“What on Gallifrey are you talking about?”

“The Doctor, silly! All that's ever stood between us were your evil ways! Well, I'm you. Without the evil! What's to stop me?”

She gave him a wide grin, seemingly trying to be encouraging, but horror settled within the Master's hearts, cold and gripping and painful, as he watched her swish out of his TARDIS doors.

She couldn't be... that couldn't be... but that would mean...

He froze, stared, unable to move, completely paralysed. For a second, the Master even forgot to breathe.

He'd lose her. He'd lose her for good. No matter what this woman said, they were not the same, they were not... the Doctor was going to... He tried to imagine it, for a wild second, the look on the Doctor's face when she realised there was a good version of him, a version she could truly let in, trust. A version that didn't fail her, didn't disappoint her, didn't haunt her.

His throat felt dry and his hearts skipped some beats.

Every last bit of mercy, of kindness, of attention, every last lingering look, she'd take it from him.

“Wait,” he spluttered, his thoughts racing as he finally fought through the shock and began to move, grabbing his coat as he hurried after the Lumiat. He had to stop her ever finding the Doctor. With every means necessary.

She had found the Doctor within five minutes, leaving him panting and glaring as he finally caught up with them. It turned out that simply shouting “Help, help, murder, murder!” brought the Doctor to the scene within mere minutes. He figured she must've waited in her TARDIS, bored out of her mind, while her companions were off on Earth duties.

Great. Just great.

“Don't listen to her,” he brought out under ragged breaths, holding his sides. “She's an imposter, an...”

“Hello,” the Lumiat greeted a very confused looking Doctor with a wide grin. “Nice to meet you, my name is the Lumiat.”

The Doctor's eyebrows shot up.

“That's not a very common name, is it? Time Lord?”

“Absolutely.” Noticing the Doctor wasn't taking her hand, she let it sink with a disappointed frown. “Big fan of your work.”

The Doctor's confused glance met the Master, who was standing in the back, trying not to feel like a lorry filled with bricks was just unloading on top of him.

“And he's with you, to... uhm...?”

“Oh, I don't know, honestly,” she replied with a frown. “He made it very clear he wasn't interested in seeing you, guess he changed his mind?”

The Master opened his mouth, then closed it again, eyes wide and hearts speeding up. What on Earth could he possibly say to make her not choose this improved, shining version of him? He had lost, the second she had showed up.

“I don't understand,” the Doctor replied, looking from one to the other. “What is going on? Did he hurt you?”

“Oh no, not me, never me, no matter what he says,” the Lumiat laughed and the sound made him shiver, honestly, truly shiver. There was a cold edge to it, and it wasn't the good one, the evil one he used to give it so often. It was... what was it?

She took the Doctor's hand between both of hers and he could see her twitch, could see that she was fighting the urge to pull it back.

“You see, I am him. Just better.”

Looking taken aback, the Doctor's eyes once again flashed towards the Master, who was standing, frozen in place, with petrified gaze and his teeth pressed together. He felt like crying, in all honesty, but there was nothing he could do, say to stop this.

“Excuse me,” the Doctor asked with a glaring smile and he could hear coldness in her tone. “Did you say... better?”

“Well, yes,” the Lumiat smiled. “You see, I'm sure you remember the Valeyard. I'm something similar. The Master's best parts, distilled, without all the evil sort. Couldn't harm a fly, really.” Her hands moved upwards, taking the Doctor's face between them. The Master twitched, just for a moment, wanted to move forward, to tear her away, but stopped himself. “Just like you always wanted.”

The Doctor took a step back, grabbing the Lumiat's wrists to pull them down. She glanced at the Master again.

“Is that true?”

He nodded, just once, barely visible. Something inside him seemed to have irreparable shattered, something he hadn't even known was whole, until it had been too late.

Completely unperturbed by the Doctor's repeated refusals, the Lumiat grabbed her hands yet again, pulling them to her chest.

“So where do you want to go first, hm?”

“Go?” the Doctor asked, clearly giving up on pulling back her hands now.

The Master was shaking.

“Yes!” the Lumiat cried with a laugh. “You! Me! All of the universe! Every star! Just like we always wanted to!”

She pulled her hands up further and kissed her knuckles. This was it, he had enough.

“Will you just stop,” he called, stepping forwards and trying to grab her, pull her away, but she avoided his grip with a little tip-toe step to the side, laughing as if it was all a horribly funny dance. “Just... stop. Leave her alone, will you!”

“But why?” she sang. “Why would I? It's all we ever wanted. It's our chance.”

“Not like... no! Stop it!”

The Doctor, finally, had retracted her hands, looking between them with her head moving left to right, then she sighed.

“How did this happen?”

“Oh, you know us,” the Lumiat replied before the Master could. “Always clinging to life a little too hard. I was created out of desperation, a last mean of survival. Magical, isn't it? A real chance! For us! Born out of death!”

“Magical,” the Doctor replied tonelessly. “Right.”

The Lumiat smiled at her again, before turning around to him. There was something hard in her usually so kind eyes.

“You can go now,” she addressed the Master. “You didn't want to be here in the first place. You wanted to be left alone by me and the Doctor. Now you have your wish. You're not needed here, you're free to leave.”

Her voice was kind and warm, yet her words seemed to have a double meaning, a cruel one, a double-edge sword cutting right through him.

To his endless horror, as he started to turn around, ready to leave, he realised that she was right.

He was not needed here any longer. Hell, had he ever been? With all that he had learned about the Doctor, all their past being already negated to nothing, absolutely nothing, what was there left to do? Was he honestly trying to capture the attention of some ancient being, something so far out of his reach, so...

“Oh no,” the Doctor said firmly, grabbing his wrist before he could take another step away. “I'm gonna need a few more explanations than that. From _both_ of you.”

Grabbing the both of them, she led them towards her own TARDIS, almost pushing them inside as she closed the door behind herself. She gave the Master a warning glare.

“Touch anything and I'll make sure to tell everyone about this.” She waved her hands at the Lumiat with a confused urgency and the Master snorted.

“Just get on with it so I can leave, alright?”

It was the first thing he had said to her today and his voice barely carried him, threatening to break already. He pinched his lips back closed, turning his head away from her inquisitive gaze.

“This is hardly necessary,” the Lumiat threw in, sitting on a chair in obvious boredom, her legs dangling back and forth. “I can tell you everything you need to know. And unlike him, I'll even tell you the truth.”

The Doctor scanned her with her sonic screwdriver, the familiar buzz making the Master turn his head back to her slightly, knowing her attention was somewhere else now. He watched the urgency in which she moved, the concentrated look on her face, the furrow of her brows.

His beautiful, idiotic, clever Doctor. Was this the last time he'd ever co-exist beside her? Next time he sought her attention, would she even bother to look at him, or would she send his past self, so skilled at spoiling his plans, so infinitely better than him, with a laugh and little dance in her steps, to deal with him?

God. He hated this... this thing that had split from his soul, hated it with every fibre of his being. Of course, that was quite the problem, wasn't it? He'd have bet the Lumiat couldn't hate. And that's why she was winning, wasn't it?

“Well,” the Doctor remarked, eyes locked on her screwdriver. “You really are him...”

“Told you so,” she laughed, jumping off her seat. “So, can we go now? Anywhere? Everywhere? We'll just drop him off at his TARDIS and...”

“Okay, stop.”

Both, the Master and the Lumiat looked surprised at the Doctor's cold tone.

“You've got to stop right now, because I am already growing tired of it. What makes you think I'd go with you. Anywhere?”

The Lumiat looked completely taken aback, spluttering senseless words, until finally finding her composure again. The Master hadn't seen her like this, even once.

“Because I am... well... because I am... new improved Master.” She laughed, but it sounded shaky, as she spread her arms in a weak ta-dah. “All that kept us apart were...”

“Let me be very clear,” the Doctor spit, the coldness still audible in the voice, making the Master want to recoil, even though it was only technically directed at him. “I don't like you. I don't want you. You are, by absolutely no means, everything I wanted.”

“But I'm... I save people. I stopped his plots... A lot of them. And I'm... I...”

The Lumiat's eyes were watering and her lips were quivering, but the Doctor simply crossed her arms and raised her chin.

“You're a sanctimonious, arrogant hypocrite,” she offered helpfully.

The Master felt his numb fingers coming back to life and he shifted back to face both of them openly now, a grin spreading on his lips.

“Ex... excuse me?” The cheerfulness in the Lumiat's voice was completely gone now.

“You stand there, talking about how good you are, without even caring how cruel you're being. You think I want some perfect, unflawed version of the man I love? You think I want some shadow that's...” She shook her head, a disgusted look on her face, but the Master's hearts were racing, throbbing.

Love?

Present tense?

“You're not even that. You're not as perfect as you think, you know? His version of good?” She nodded towards the Master, making him flinch. “It has always, always been fundamentally flawed. It has always been selfish. Don't get me wrong, of course he's capable of true goodness, if he wants to, if he tries, if he lets himself. But you're the flawed product of a flawed concept, living inside his head. You're cruel and dismissive with every word you say about yourself and him. Thanks. I think I'll stay put.”

The Lumiat stared at her, wordlessly for a whole minute, a storm blazing in her eyes. When she finally spoke, her voice was devoid of any warmth of kindness.

“You hypocritical, old, dumb....”

With a glaring light, she was gone, mid-sentence, leaving the Master startled.

“What... where... what...?” He stared at the spot his alter ego had just disappeared from.

The Doctor shrugged, a light grin playing around her lips, twitching as she tried to suppress it.

“I think someone had quite impure thoughts. I wonder why.”

The Master blinked.

“Did you just make her... “

“Evaporate and go back to where she came from, after stripping her of what she thought was her essence? A little.”

“But...”

“Aw, you'll be fine,” she waved dismissively. “What's a little secured paradox under friends.”

He stared at her, speechless. Then words stumbled out of his mouth, before he could even think, before he knew what he wanted to say.

“Doctor, I...”

“Don't.”

“But...”

“You're an idiot, you know. You always have been. That's what you believe? That I'll take some perfect version of you and fly off to the universe with them? I never wanted you to be perfect. I never wanted you to be something that you're not.”

She stepped closer, her hand resting on her chest, right between his hearts, currently beating so frantically, he knew she could feel it, knew what it meant, simply had to... just this once... she needed to realise...

“I know there's good inside you,” she whispered, a sad smile around her lip. “I know you better than anyone else, there was never any doubt about that. It's your actions that are the problem.”

She kissed him softly, and far, far too shortly and the Master felt himself melt beneath her lips, his eyes widening. He had thought she'd never touch him like this again, look at him with love again, had arranged himself in the hole he had dug, had arranged himself with knowing that the only attention he'd ever get from her again was hate. Had told himself he was okay with it.

“Please don't... don't expect anything... I can't...” he stammered, unsure how to put into words everything that was haunting him, all the failures and fall backs that had led him to who he was now.

“I know,” she whispered. “And neither can I. But maybe... for a little bit... we can just be us? No stakes, no universe, no conquest and battles, just... being?”

He looked into those eyes and it was as if a rainbow of colour stared back at him.

As if he'd ever stood a choice.

“Just for the record...” his lips twitched. “You're the biggest sanctimonious, hypocritical, arrogant old fool I have ever met.”

The Doctor grinned.

“I know. I only called her that because I know it would amuse you. After all, her plan worked, eh?”

“Her plan?” the Master frowned. “Wait, what? What do you mean, it worked, she's... gone, right?”

The Doctor shook her head, suppressing a laugh.

“So clever, yet so stupid.” She said it in the same affectionate tone as she had before, back when they had both been other people and despite his confusion, it made his hearts beat faster – They almost jumped out of his chest when she took his hand, her defiant “never” still echoing in his mind, finally fading. “It was all a plan to make you realise you wanted me. Idiot.”

The Master stared at her and the Doctor bit her lower lip in contemplation, a slight red creeping up her cheek as she averted her gaze.

“You... do want me, right?”

There it was: Control, handed to him on a silver platter. He could humiliate her, lie, save his own face, come out as the winner of this odd encounter, somehow.

But, by Rassilon's mouldy old beard, he was tired.

The Master squeezed her hand.

“Only on Tuesdays.”

The Doctor laughed about that.

“How about this then – We declare Tuesday Truce-day.”

The Master raised an eyebrow.

“Never can resist a pun, can you?”

“Pot meets kettle,” she grinned. “What do you say? Universal Doctor-Master Truce-Day. We hang out and watch Frozen 2.”

The Master's eyes widened.

“They made a second part?”

“Didn't you hear?” the Doctor asked innocently. “Elsa is gay!”

“Truce-Day it is!” he thundered, making both of them fall into laughter.

“I really did hate her, though.”

The Doctor did that cute nose-crunch thing he hated so much. Ah. Or maybe he didn't. Maybe he had just hated it because it made him want to kiss the very tip of her nose every time she did it. Who knew, anymore. Feelings were so horribly confusing.

“Yeah. Me too. If I wanted to date myself, I could just... you know, go and meet up with pinstripes. He was desperate enough to give it a go, I bet. Had a thing for blonds.”

“Hey, such a coincidence,” the Master replied with a kiss to her temple. “So do I.”


End file.
